Page 24 of The Deadbeat Next Door

The bartender finally made his way down the bar, and I ordered a tequila shot and a martini, just because I could, damn it. Before I could dig out my money, Cody laid his on the bar.

He raised his eyebrows when I lifted the tequila shot to my mouth and I downed it, like a pro. Professional drinker that is, not prostitute.

***

My head hurt and I was pretty sure I was on a ship because the bed was rocking in a slow, undulating rhythm. I wanted to open my eyes but it was too bright and I knew it would hurt. I already hurt too much. I couldn’t take more pain. I groaned and tried to roll away from the light, but it was everywhere. I was surrounded by light, light with razor blades attached to it.

“Here, sweetheart,” a male voice said, and the brightness dimmed a bit. “Is that better?”

“Mmmm, Yes, thank you.” I didn’t know who the voice belonged to, he could be a kidnapper or a serial killer, and I really didn’t care, because he’d made the light hurt less and I loved him for it.

The bed or boat shifted and warmth came near. “You can stay in bed all day if you want, but last night you told me you needed to go to church this morning. Something about being an usher.”

And just like that, I hated him because he’d brought reality in and reality hurt. “Go away.”

He chuckled. “This is my house, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

I cracked one eye open to see Cody, shirtless, leaning over me. “Why am I at your house?”

“You were pretty drunk last night. I didn’t want to leave you alone. And I know where the aspirin and the glasses are at my house.”

“Glasses?”

“For water,” he said. “You want some?”

“Yes.” It felt like my mouth had been stuffed with sand at some point during the previous night.

He helped me sit up and handed me a cool glass of water. I drank it in three fast swallows, not caring that my stomach rumbled in discontent. “Aspirin?”

He dropped two tablets in my hand and gave me another glass of water. I drank them down and passed him the glass back. I was wearing one of his t-shirts and I still had on panties and a bra, so I was pretty sure we hadn’t slept together, but he’d definitely taken off my clothes.

“Um, what happened last night?”

He leaned back against the headboard and stuck his legs straight out in front of him. “I thought you had an unusually high tolerance?”

My words came back and bit me in the ass, just like I would have known they would if I’d been remotely sober when I’d said them. “Yeah, I might have exaggerated a tiny bit. I don’t really remember anything after that shot.”

He shook his head, his smile growing. “That’s too bad. You put on quite the show.”

I didn’t like the smug look on his face and I hated being in a position of not knowing if he was telling me the truth. I knew better than to drink too much, I didn’t do it often, but when I did I always blacked out. I didn’t pass out, I still functioned like I was fully present, but I’d wake the next day with no memory of what happened. After the last time, while I was still in college, I’d sworn it would never happen again. Cody’s mere presence had made me lose control, had made me act in ways I normally never would. It wasn’t his fault, but he wasn’t good for me. That much was very, very clear. “Just tell me one thing,” I said. “And don’t mess around. Did we have sex last night? Did we do anything at all?”

He leaned in close, so close I felt his words against my lips. “Sweetheart, if I’d touched you last night, if I’d tasted your sweet lips, you would most definitely remember.”

His proximity and his words made me forget my headache and my twisting stomach and I found myself leaning toward him, wanting to touch him, to close the distance between us. I was stronger than my primal urges, so I backed away from him and slid out of his bed. “I’ve got to go. I’ll be late to church.”

He beat me to the front door and blocked my path. “Sweetheart,” he said, his voice a low husky growl. “The next time we share a bed, I’m not going to let you run away from me.”

“Okay,” I said, because we’d never share a bed again. “It’s a deal. Will you move so I can go home?”

He handed me my purse from where it lay on the floor next to his front door and I ran out of his house and all the way back to mine. I didn’t even bother to take the time to look for my clothes, his t-shirt fell to my knees and I ran fast. I slammed through my front door and inside, slumping to the floor as soon as the door had closed behind me. Ooowwww. That was a really stupid thing to do when I was hungover. I put one hand to my aching head and one to my roller-coastering stomach. This was what I got when I decided to go out and live a little, a hangover from hell and an awkward wake-up in a bed with the Neanderthal next door. Dilly was wrong, fun was definitely overrated.

I got to my feet slowly and limped to the bathroom, trying not to jostle my stomach too much. I took off Cody’s t-shirt and absolutely did not luxuriate in the smell, slipped off my panties and bra and stepped into the hot shower. There was nothing quite like a nice, long shower when I felt like a cow patty that had been stomped on by an elephant. I shut the water off and toweled dry and left the bathroom, naked, to head to my room and dress. Yeah, my house was so small that I only had one bathroom and it was in the hall, right across from the living room. And, yeah, I absolutely did consider it one of the perks of living alone that I could walk around naked whenever I wanted. There weren’t a lot of perks to living alone, so I made the most of them.

I stepped out of the bathroom, stark naked, steam still hissing off my body and almost ran into Cody. Cody who was standing in my hallway. His eyes tracked over my naked body and I just stood there, my hung-over brain not operating correctly or quickly. The heat in his eyes sparked a heat in me that I was in no hurry to escape.

Luckily, my survival instinct kicked in and I slapped hands over my breasts and my hoo-ha and ran for my bedroom. I heard Cody say a very ungentleman-like word behind me. I slammed my door, my heart racing like I’d just escaped a near-death experience. Apparently being hung-over sent my heart into overdrive.

I pulled on dress slacks and a nice sweater over sensible panties and a bra - I just couldn’t wear sexy underwear to church. I was an Episcopalian, so I didn’t believe much was sinful, that’s just not how we rolled, but it seemed more respectful, somehow, not to wear skimpy lingerie in the Lord’s presence. I didn’t even bother combing my hair. I stormed back out of my room to face Cody, who was pacing in my living room and muttering something at the region of his crotch.

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